Blue Eyes
by elvengirl9
Summary: A collection of poems for Albus Dumbledore.
1. Troubles of a Worried Soul

**Disclaimer: **Yes, I'm in a poetry mood. No, that has nothing to do with the disclaimer or the ownership of Harry Potter. Because Albus Dumbledore and all other characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note:** If you haven't figured it out yet (and you didn't read the disclaimer,) I'm in a poetry mood. I don't really know why. So here is my third set of poems- ones about Albus Dumbledore. And I was told (and I agree with this) that one of my recent poems was more like a monologue than a poem. That's the problem with free-written poetry. So please define this for me: is this a monologue or poetry? That way, I can make a fic strictly for monologues so I don't crowd up the poems. Um... anyway, yes, this is not a happy poem. Maybe I should pick a happy character to write about, instead of guilty old men, lonely werewolves and hardened, confused potions masters. Wait a second... this is Harry Potter. There are no happy characters.

Troubles of a Worried Soul 

Pouring out the troubles of a worried soul.

When everyone turns to you,

You're all alone.

And you understand that it's necessary.

Maybe you shouldn't have done it. But then where would the world be?

Pouring out the troubles of a worried soul.

Here is another who needs to

Understand.

Understand. Everyone wishes to do so, when innocence is far more rewarding. Understanding is harsh.

Pouring out the troubles of a worried soul.

It would be nice to pretend.

Just once.

No time for pretending.

"Albus," they say. "What do we do?"

How do you crush a person's dreams?

How do you destroy hope?

How do you let a soul fall into despair?

Might as well kill them now. It would be kinder.

The wise man and the young child.

The wise man is wise.

The young child is happy.

Then reality comes in, and the young child is dead.

And the wise man is left, alone.

Pouring out the troubles of a worried soul.

The jug that always refills pours water into the teacup.

And the teacup is so small...

Do I kill them?

Do I kill the ones I love for a blind man's purpose?

Do you think I might die happy?

It would be nice, to die happy.

It would be nice, to end this life.

I am tired.

Weary, moving from one to the next.

But my purpose is not over.

Maybe soon.

We cannot lose hope. But it is too late for that.

There is only deception and blindness, and keeping the hope in others.

"There is still hope," they think.

I give hope to others...

I keep none for myself.

Pouring out the troubles of a worried soul.

The jug that always refills pours water into the teacup.

And the teacup shatters.

I killed them.

The ones that died.

And there will be more yet.


	2. Blue Eyes

**Disclaimer:** Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter... You think they're MINE?

**Author's Note:** I like this poem. Unlike the last one, it's not a bunch of sentences put together blindly. It actually rhymes... for the most part.

Blue Eyes 

No longer can I hide the truth,

Shield innocence from rule.

No longer can young be a youth,

For War is blind and cruel.

Tears in blind and shameless eyes,

Tears of pain, tears of lies,

Tears fill all eyes,

Nothing I can do.

It singles out the blameless kind,

And weaves a web of harsh deceit.

Only too late, can we find

The hole it's dug is far too deep.

Tears for death and tears for shame,

Tears from guilt, tears from blame,

Tears fill all eyes,

Nothing I can do.

Watch as lives tear piece by piece,

I watch and make no move.

If lives end and spirits cease,

Then virtue I can't prove.

Tears of laughter seldom come,

Cry the tears 'till cheeks are numb,

Tears fill all eyes,

Nothing I can do.

Watch me now, O one I love,

From all death you cannot flee.

The fates of spirits far above,

They have decreed your destiny.

Lose the ones you've come to trust,

Only strangers in the land,

Choose you cannot, yet you must:

Die, or death comes from your hand.

Green, green eyes, so like your mother,

Tears fill your eyes, like another-

Tears fill blue eyes,

Nothing I can do.

Green eyes, green eyes, dry with time,

Maybe Fate will soon be kind,

Tears fill blue eyes,

Nothing I can do.

Nothing I can do

For these eyes that are blue…


	3. Lies

**Disclaimer:** Ever wonder why it's called _fan_fiction? It's because if any of us owned this stuff, we'd be writing fiction, without the fan part. Unless J.K. Rowling is somewhere here on But then it would be called authorfiction.

**Author's Note: **This poem has a sort of rhythm that's a little hard to see at first. Just trust your instincts. And if that doesn't work, yell at me in your review.

Lies 

Lies, lies,

Such promising lies,

Offered by those with deceit in their eyes.

The weak become hopeful

From those they despise,

Say their goodbyes

With lies, lies.

Tales, tales,

Such enticing tales,

Stretching the distance from England to Wales.

False hope for traitors

And those who have failed,

Filling the jails

With tales, tales.

Truth, truth,

Disheartening truth,

Sparing the elderly, murdering youth,

Leaving us hopefuls

With vain, empty tries,

Hear our sharp cries

For lies, lies.

Can we defy

These lies, lies?


	4. Wisdom

**Disclaimer: **No one else on this site owns Harry Potter. Why would I?

**Author's Note:** There's something sad but satisfying about writing this poem. I would really love it if you gave me a detailed review, telling me exactly what you liked and what you hated. NO review can be too long.

**Wisdom**

I wished for wisdom, I wished for truth,

I wished for age when I was youth,

I came to the world with fire in my eyes,

Seeking to thwart all the deceit and lies,

How little I knew, of our human nation,

I knew not I was subject to limitation.

Wisdom so powerful, changing the race,

Evil 'twould be pushed in its proper place,

Knowledge was int'resting, knowledge was fun,

I dreamed that I could get anything done.

But I am but human, and human I stay,

My actions are little; I do what I may.

Wisdom was so widely misunderstood,

Some think they have it but lose it for good,

Wishing for what I did not understand,

But wisdom can be potent in the hands of a man.

So I still quest, I am seeking what's right,

And for this world I am ready to fight.


	5. Staring Out the Windowpane

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Dumbledore, I'd be a whole lot happier.

**Author's Note: **I suppose this could apply to anyone, but I'm not wrinkly and it's not raining, so it might as well be Dumbledore.

**Staring Out the Windowpane**

Staring out the windowpane

Reflection is watching back.

All the grounds are drenched with rain,

All the sky is turning black.

Burden heavy on my shoulder

Knees are buckling from such weight,

And the nights are growing colder

Telling me that I'm too late

Winter's coming, Spring comes after

I must save it, I must try,

Snow and rain, or pain and laughter,

Something tells me it will die.

Eyes closing from loss of gain,

Wrinkles sagging like tree bark,

Staring out the windowpane

And the world is very dark.


End file.
